


I'll Miss This One This Year

by Raven052



Series: 12 Days of Frerard Christmas [9]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Break Up, Christmas, M/M, Sexual Content, bad christmas, blizzard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2828939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven052/pseuds/Raven052
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas time can be the loneliest, especially when your past continues to haunt you. </p>
<p>An unexpected visitor at first seems like some kind of curse. <br/>But, maybe, just maybe... The things that are broken can be mended. And what better time, than Christmas?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Miss This One This Year

"Fuck Christmas."   
The same voice grumbled the same words it had been since the beginning of December.  
And before that, actually. Everyone knows Christmas starts in at around September. 

Frank threw himself down on the couch as he uttered the sentiment once again.   
To be perfectly fair, he'd been grumbling about Christmas for years (even if, secretly, he kinda enjoyed some aspects of it) but this year was even worse, as far as he was concerned.   
Well. That just summed up the whole shitty year, didn't it? 

"I might be wrong, but you could get sued for that."   
Frank glared over at the person he was currently sharing a room with.   
Adam hadn't even looked up from his video game to make the comment.   
"Been there. Done that." Frank replied. "They can try and sue me all they want. I'll still say: Fuck Christmas."  
"Or." The fellow musician said, still not looking up, "you could say what you really mean."   
"And what do I really mean?" Frank challenged.   
"Same thing you meant when you said 'fuck spring, fuck Easter, fuck summer, fuck winter, and fuck every other change of weather, season or holiday."   
Frank said nothing, sinking further back into the couch, refusing to vent his frustration and anger towards the true reason he'd spent the best part of his year pissed off. 

When Adam finally took a break from his game (Assassins Creed, coincidentally), and left the room, Frank dug into this pocket, pulled out his phone.  
And, for the millionth time, he scrolled down his contacts, brought up the same name, which still had the same picture, his thumb hovering over the 'call' button.  
"Fuck you." He growled, quietly, before shutting his phone off again.

****

His phone was becoming a great annoyance, actually.   
It was filled with unanswered texts and phone messages.  
All from that same person.   
They were getting more impatient now, more urgent. 

But then, the last voicemail he’d had didn’t sound like the previous ones, which had been growing steadily more frustrated, annoyed.  
The last one had sounded…  
Tired. Almost defeated.   
Instead of the long messages Frank had listened to over and over again, the last message had been simple.

_“Just… Just talk to me, Frankie. Please.”_

Angry messages he could deal with. Frustrated, he could deal with. Impatient, he could deal with.   
He couldn’t deal with that one though. He couldn’t deal with how…  
Sad the voice had sounded.  
He’d deleted that message after just one listen. He didn’t want to hear it again. 

Instead he picked one of the earlier one, fake cheerful and carefree, then another one, filled with clipped irritability.   
That made him feel a little more settled.

Except, he hadn’t received a message since. 

Frank had assumed the messages would be coming in more frequently, especially as now the other person had a specific reason to make him talk. 

The band was meant to be meeting up for Christmas, like always. It was tradition.

But, it appeared they’d already given up on Frank.  
So now at least he had that too to hold against him. 

****

Christmas was drawing ever closer, and Frank forced himself to forget about all the bullshit that had been dragging him down and try to, at least, have one good day.

That all came crashing down, just a few days before Christmas.

****

Frank was alone in the house, and would be until the next day.  
So close to Christmas, there was a lot to do, a lot he’d been asked to do around the house.   
But instead Frank found himself sat in the living room, staring at the Christmas tree.  
Staring, particularly, at the decorations on the tree.

A memory, of only a few years ago (or a few decades ago? It felt like it sometimes), of a much smaller tree, sat in the middle of the floor of a tour bus, covered in ornaments that threatened to topple the thing over. They’d all helped decorate it, and they were very, very proud of it.  
It did, of course, eventually fall over, it was never going to stay upright.   
And then Frank had tripped over it because no one bothered to pick it up.   
He’d landed basically right on top of Gerard.   
“I didn’t see any mistletoe, Frank, but if you’re offering…” Gerard had raised an eyebrow at him and grinned, teasing him, while Frank hurried to get up, embarrassed, but smiling.  
(The kiss came a few months later)

Frank closed his eyes, shook his head to try and rid it of that thought pattern.   
_Not everything is about him._   
Hadn’t those been his own very words?

Another memory. Much more recent.   
Much less happy. 

_“It’s not all about you, you know? Quit being so fucking selfish for once!”_  
“Selfish? You’re calling me selfish? This has nothing to do with what I want, it’s what I-”  
“What? What else could it possibly be?”  
“Frank, you’re not listening!”  
“You’re right. I’m not. Not anymore. Call me when you’re done with your melodramatic bullshit.” 

That had been the last time they’d seen each other.  
Not quite the last time they’d spoken. 

The last time they talked had been over the phone.   
Or, at least, he had talked.  
Frank had stayed silent.   
Not wanting to say anything.  
Having no idea what it was he could say. 

Damn it.  
Everything did lead back to him, somehow. 

Frank pulled out his phone.  
Still no new messages.   
_So he really has given up finally._

****

Frank hadn’t realised how much time he’d lost to his thoughts, again, until the sound of the doorbell brought him back to the here and now.

He realised it was dark now, and switched on a few lights as he went past. 

When he first opened the door, Frank assumed he’d accidentally slipped back into his memories again. Had to have done, because…  
When the hell was the last time he’d seen Gerard in Jersey? 

Gerard smiled, just slightly, one corner of his mouth quirking up a little.   
“Hey Frank.” He said, quietly.  
Wordlessly, Frank went to slam the door on him.   
“Wait!” Gerard said, hurriedly, grabbing the door, holding it open.  
Frank kept an equally tight hold on the door, but didn’t try to close it anymore.  
He also refused to look up, to look at Gerard, instead forced to stare down at the frosty ground, catching sight of Gerard’s boots.  
“Frank.” Gerard said, gently. “Look. I know, I know you’ve been avoiding me, and I get it, okay? But… I really need to talk to you, and… This seemed like the best option.”  
Frank glanced up at him.  
Already, he felt a little bit of that armour he’d built for himself starting to break down.  
 _Crazy fucker. Of course he’d fly all the way out to Jersey. That would seem like the best option to him._  
The armour repaired itself quickly though.  
 _Why couldn’t he have done it sooner then?_   
“Leave me alone.” Frank said, quietly, but surely.  
He went to back away, close the door again, but, with surprising force, Gerard pushed the door further open, nearly wrenching it out of Frank’s hand.  
Frank had no option but to look up then, shocked, but also annoyed at the other mans actions.   
Gerard stared back at him, calmly.  
It was frustrating, seeing just how calm he was, when Frank felt so riled.  
“This is getting stupid.” Gerard said, just the tiniest hint of annoyance in his voice, which Frank immediately picked up on, and it made him feel much better.   
“It’s been nearly a year now, and I am done with you avoiding me. I have come out here, at Christmas, leaving everything behind so that I can see you, and try to fix this.”   
It stung.   
He didn’t like the way Gerard was saying it. Like it could be fixed. It couldn’t, they knew it couldn’t, not really. They could perhaps temporarily put it back together, but it wouldn’t be fixed.

And he didn’t like the way Gerard had said he was ‘leaving everything behind’.  
Fact was, Frank used to be part of that ‘everything’.  
That’s what stung the most. Knowing he wasn’t. 

Frank walked away from the door, back into the house, leaving it open.   
Gerard followed, and shut the door. 

Frank went back into the living room, sat down.   
He closed his eyes, not wanting to watch Gerard walk in, sit down, looking as if he belonged here, like nothing had changed.   
He heard him though, and sensed when Gerard sat.  
Frank was just steeling himself to start talking, when Gerard got in first.  
“I’m sorry.”  
Frank’s eyes snapped open.  
Gerard could’ve said anything, anything except that, and perhaps it would’ve still upset him, but that _that_ was the worst.   
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Frank growled. “Don’t try to simply brush all this off with a simple sorry. Don’t think that just by saying that makes everything fucking fine again! It doesn’t. It won’t. And if that’s all you’ve come here to say, then you’ve wasted a fucking trip.”   
Momentarily, Gerard looked taken aback, then hurt, scared.   
Then he looked equally annoyed. “No! I came here to try and make you listen! Don’t you think it’s been driving me crazy? Not seeing you, not speaking to you. The only reason I fucking know you’re okay is because Ray tells me!”  
Frank laughed, humourlessly. “And I guess by okay, you mean ‘not dead’.”   
“I guess.” Gerard agreed. “Frank. You don’t wanna hear this, I know, and I know you’re gonna tell me to go fuck myself for it but… Fuck, Frank, I can’t deal with it anymore. I can’t deal with not having you in my life. It _hurts_ , okay? I fucking miss you so much it _hurts_.”  
Frank looked at him, steadily, for a long, long time.  
“Your choice.” Frank said, simply.   
“No!” Gerard argued. “It wasn’t. I didn’t choose this.” He waved his hand, indicating between the two of them.  
“But with what you did choose, you had to have known. Or else…” Frank trailed off, briefly. Thinking over his next words, knowing it would hurt them both.  
He hurt so much anyway. He didn’t believe Gerard when he said he hurt. Or, perhaps he did. But he didn’t believe it was even half of what he felt.  
“Or else, you never really knew me.” Frank finally finished.  
It felt like the final nail in the coffin.  
This was it, closure.  
Gerard, clearly, had never understood him in the first place. It had all been a lie, or something Frank had made up in his head, because he’d wanted to believe it.   
Perhaps, now, finally, he could start getting over it. 

But Gerard was staring at him, the look on his face one like Frank had physically hit him.  
Then, slowly, Gerard shook his head. “You don’t think that. You don’t really think that. I know it. Because I know _you_.”  
The anger flared again, and, suddenly, Frank was on his feet. “And by saying that you prove you _don’t_!” He snapped. “Because that is _exactly_ what I think! I think, that if you truly believe I wouldn’t be hurt, and want to shut you out for what you did… How can you know me? How could you ever have known me?”   
Gerard closed his eyes, bowed his head. “I did. I did know.” He admitted, quietly.  
“And you still did it!” Frank yelled at him.  
Gerard nodded. “I did. And I’m-”  
“Don’t!” Frank interrupted. “Don’t fucking say it again. Don’t say you’re sorry! Stop it! It’s not fair! Because you’re not going to do anything about it! You’re not going to fix it! You’re not going to be able to make me feel any fucking better! And I hate that you won’t, that you can’t. And I hate that I want you to so fucking much!”   
And then, without warning, Gerard was on his feet.  
He grabbed Frank, pulled him close, and kissed him, hard.

For a second, the briefest second, Frank forgot everything.  
Forgot the pain, the anger. He forgot the whole awful year.  
All he was focused on was the kiss.  
It was perfect, and for that one, small moment, it felt like nothing had changed. It was this time last year, and everything was fine.

Then everything resurfaced.  
And Frank, roughly, pushed Gerard away.  
Gerard stumbled back, but Frank didn’t see it.  
He’d already turned his back.  
He didn’t want to look at Gerard right now.  
Didn’t want him to see he was crying.

“Get out.” Frank said, flatly.  
“Frank-”  
“No!” Frank snapped, his voice cracking just that little bit.   
“No more! Get out, leave me alone. You can’t help here, Gerard. I know that’s difficult for you to understand, but you can’t help me. You only make things worse. Only make it hurt more. So get out before you fucking kill me.” 

Gerard was thinking about protesting, Frank knew.  
And, somehow, it hurt again when he didn’t. 

“I miss you.” Gerard said, simply, instead. “And I’ll never stop.”

Frank realised that what he said was just a substitute for what he meant.  
In truth, ‘miss’ was really ‘love’.

And, perhaps, that would’ve been the last they’d ever see of each other.  
If it hadn’t been for the blizzard. 

Frank happened to look up, out of the window.  
And in the dark, he could just make out the swirling weather. 

“Fucking Jersey.” He muttered, before running to the door.  
Gerard just had his hand on the handle, when Frank stopped him.   
“Wait!” Frank said, making him stop, look up.  
“It’s- There’s a blizzard out there and…” Frank trailed off, taking in Gerard’s less than suitable attire.  
He couldn’t help but smile a little.  
The man had lived in LA too long.  
“And if I send you out there, I’m likely to be responsible of murder, so…Stay the night, okay? Just… Just until…”  
Frank meant to say ‘until the weather lets up’.  
He wanted to say so many other things instead, so he ended up saying nothing.   
“Only if you’re sure?” Gerard said, quietly.  
Frank nodded. “There’s a spare room. You can stay there.”   
Gerard smiled, just slightly, and nodded.

****

Thankfully, both men seemed exhausted. Gerard from the travelling he’d done, and Frank…  
Frank was just drained. 

And yet, when Frank took himself to bed, after saying a quick goodnight to Gerard, Frank found sleep refused to find him.  
He couldn’t stop going over the events, since Gerard had turned up.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the last time they’d seen each other.  
The last time they’d spoken.

Couldn’t stop thinking about all the times prior to that. When things seemed… As close to perfect as they ever could. 

Couldn’t stop thinking that Gerard was just downstairs.

What was it Frank had said to him?   
_“Get out before you fucking kill me.”_

Right now, his brain swirling with thoughts, it sounded like a pretty good death.

****

Gerard also couldn’t sleep.  
Couldn’t forget that Frank was upstairs.  
And he was down here, in the spare room.  
He couldn’t helping thinking about the times he’d been up there, with Frank.  
He hadn’t hoped for that, hadn’t dared.   
But, he had, at least, hoped that Frank would talk to him.  
Which, he guessed he had, but it hadn’t gone the way Gerard had wanted.   
He wanted to make Frank feel okay again, to stop the hurt.  
Instead he found he’d only made things worse. 

Gerard sat up, startled, when he heard the door opening, slowly.   
Frank walked in, and came closer.  
Gerard was even more shocked when Frank sat down on the edge of the bed, then leaned in, and kissed him, tentatively, then again, more forcefully.  
Frank whispered in his ear then, “Don’t think that this is forgiveness.”  
Gerard nodded, hoping that was the correct answer.  
Then Frank stood, moved back the covers, and got in with Gerard, forcing the other man to move over slightly.   
When they kissed again it was immediately obvious where this was heading.

The kisses were hot, needy, and their actions mimicked them almost perfectly.  
One second their hands were in each others hair, pulling and tugging gently.  
Then their hands were wandering down, pushing at clothes, hurrying to get them off.  
Frank brushed his hand over Gerard’s cock, and grinned into their kiss.  
“Horny bitch, huh?”   
Gerard nodded. “I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you so fucking much.”  
He grabbed Gerard’s hand then, and Gerard found it pressed against Frank’s cock.  
“Missed this?” Frank asked.  
Gerard nodded, his fingers already curling around it, moving gently, slowly at first.  
Frank moaned, softly.  
“God I forgot how good you are at that.”  
Gerard said nothing, burying his face against Frank’s neck, kissing him there now.   
Frank tipped his head back, closing his eyes.   
Then, without much warning, he pushed Gerard away, then onto his back. 

“Sit up.” Frank instructed. Which Gerard did, with a small smile.   
Frank moved over, pretty much sitting on Gerard’s lap.  
Both closed their eyes briefly as Frank brushed up against Gerard’s cock.  
Then Frank was up, on his knees.  
One hand curled around the back of Gerard’s head, the other reached out a single finger, pressed against Gerard’s bottom lip, pushing down slightly.   
Gerard opened his mouth, slowly wider.   
Frank slipped his finger briefly into the open mouth, making Gerard whine, quietly.  
The finger slid out then, replaced, slowly, with Frank’s cock.

Frank’s head tipped back, his eyes closed tight.  
“Fuck. Fuck.” He chanted, quietly.  
He’d forgotten, completely forgotten this too.   
Fuck, Gerard’s mouth wasn’t just pretty, it was fucking beautiful. 

Frank’s hand stroked through Gerard’s hair, encouraging him on, occasionally gripping tight.  
He would’ve, happily and easily came inside his mouth. He knew Gerard didn’t mind, so long as he was given warning. He’d even told Frank once that he liked it, but Frank had never been sure if that was just something Gerard had said to turn him on.   
Anyway, Frank had other plans.

With great difficultly (because he didn’t want to stop, and apparently neither did Gerard), Frank pulled away.  
He moved off Gerard, and briefly admired the other man.  
His eyes were closed, his lips still slightly parted.   
They looked red, full. Used.  
Frank bent swiftly down to steal a kiss from them, then he pushed Gerard, not quiet gently, encouraging him onto his front. 

Frank was suddenly regretting not being in his own room.  
But, he decided, he would make do.   
His finger slicked with spit, Frank sat back up, reaching down, and slowly teased his finger into Gerard.  
Gerard hissed in pain, and tried to move away, involuntarily.   
Frank’s other hand held him still, while he began to move the finger deeper, faster.  
Gerard cried out then. “S- Slowly, Frank. Please. I- I-”  
Frank grinned. “Oh, been a while?” He asked.  
Gerard nodded.  
“How long?” Frank asked, knowing he was going where he shouldn’t, asking the questions he shouldn’t.   
“Nearly a year.” Gerard replied, quietly.  
That made Frank pause.   
Eventually, he asked the question he dreaded the answer to.   
“Me?” He said, just as quietly.   
After what seemed a very long time, Gerard nodded again. 

Trying not to dwell on that too much, Frank took the information that Gerard was ‘out of practice’, and went a little more carefully. 

Frank encouraged Gerard up onto his hands and knees, though Gerard protested, tried to move onto his back.   
“I want to see you. Please. You know I’ve missed you. Let me see you.”  
But Frank wouldn’t allow it.  
Part of him was scared to.  
He knew they’d done something very stupid tonight. And he knew it was his own fault.   
They shouldn’t be in bed together, like this. Touching and kissing, like nothing had happened, like it was all okay.  
It wasn’t okay, and it wasn’t going to be okay after this.   
He couldn’t let them have sex facing each other, like they used to. That reminded him too much of before, of when they’d had sex while telling each other they loved each other.   
Frank couldn’t handle that. 

Perhaps it was because of what he’d remembered, or perhaps it was because it’d been so long for him too, but Frank went fast, a little rough.  
Gerard didn’t complain though, encouraging Frank to go faster, more, harder.   
“I want to be able to feel you for days.”  
Frank saw that as a challenge. 

It didn’t take long after for the gravity of what had happened to hit them both.  
It effected each of them differently however, and, just as Gerard reached for Frank, going to bring him close, Frank jumped out of the bed, threw his clothes back on, and ran from the room. 

****

Frank ran all the way upstairs, not stopping until he was in his room, his door slammed behind him, and then back over to his bed.  
He sat there, his knees drawn close to his chest, the covers just barely around him.

Frank heart was beating fast, tears suddenly streaming down his cheeks.  
Why? Why had he done that?   
He’d just made it worse. So much worse.  
He’d just made it even more difficult for himself.   
He’d torn open all the old wounds, viciously, all in one go.  
And it hurt. Oh God it hurt. 

Frank could feel his breathing catching, getting caught. Starting to choke.  
A crazy thought flashed in his brain.  
 _Holy shit, he really is gonna kill me._

Frank barely looked up when his door opened, he couldn’t. He couldn’t deal with what he knew he was about to face.   
“Frank?”  
Gerard was also dressed again, and he came, tentatively, into the room.   
He saw Frank crying, hard, and came closer.  
Doing almost as Frank had done earlier, Gerard sat on the bed, close to Frank.  
He reached for one of the hands pressed against Frank’s face, trying to stem the flow of tears.  
“Frank. Please, look at me.”  
Frank shook his head.   
“Frank… Why… Why did you run away like that? I thought…”  
“Because I just made everything worse!” Frank snapped, finally looking up, his tear filled eyes also full of hurt and, again, anger. “Don’t you fucking get it? I just fucked you, because I have no fucking self control, still with the intention to kick you out as soon as the storm passes. _I just fucking used you_ , Gerard!”  
The fire of anger suddenly dying, Frank continued, quietly, disbelievingly. “I did even worse than you. I just made it so the last time we have sex was a pointless, meaningless fuck. I just defiled everything.”  
Gerard frowned.   
“Really?”   
The simple way with which Gerard asked this made Frank stop short.  
Stop crying.  
Stop panicking.  
“What?”   
“Did you really think that was meaningless?” Gerard asked.  
Frank frown almost equalled Gerard’s. “I-”  
“Because I didn’t. And I don’t think it defiled anything. And I certainly don’t feel used.”   
Frank just stared at him, trying to figure out where he was going with this.  
What was going on.   
“I felt like… I’ve told you I missed you, and that’s not a lie and… What just happened made me think… Maybe, maybe things could, eventually be… Okay.”   
Frank closed his eyes, the tears coming back.   
Oh no. He _had_ made it worse.  
“I told you it wasn’t forgiveness.” Frank said, quietly.   
“I know.” Gerard said. “And I don’t expect it. But, Frank, don’t… Didn’t you feel like… There’s no denying it, we’re right, together. Yes, we fucked up big time a few times down the line but… Didn’t you feel it?”   
Frank couldn’t admit it, but he knew what Gerard was talking about, the ‘rightness’ (if that was even how to explain it).   
“But, Gee, we can’t-”  
“We can.” Gerard argued, suddenly grabbing Frank’s hands. “Look, I know, I know this evening and tonight was… It wasn’t ideal, this wasn’t the perfect reunion, but… It’s kinda fitting for us, right? We always seem to… Stumble in this relationship. But, we always catch each other.” He paused then. “Even if this time I took a real long time to catch you before you hit the floor.”   
Frank had looked up when Gerard said, ‘this relationship’.  
As if it were still going on.   
“Gee… What are you trying to say?”  
“I want us together again. I can’t… I can’t fix what happened, but…”  
Frank pushed himself forward then, and wrapped his arms around Gerard, refusing to let him go for a long time. 

****

The next morning, the two of them woke up together.   
And Gerard, finally, brought up the other reason he’d come to see Frank. 

“We’re have the usual meet up, you’re coming, right?”   
Frank didn’t think he’d looked forward to the meet up more. 

While Frank packed, Gerard watched, happily.

The Christmas meet up was all four of them. Gerard, Mikey, Ray and Frank.   
It’d become tradition almost as much as the stupid tree they decorated together each year. If they weren’t on tour around Christmas, it spent the year at one of their houses. And that would be the house they held the meet up at.   
This year it was at Ray’s, Gerard was telling him.   
“Ray was so worried you weren’t going to come, he said it wouldn’t be right without you.”  
Frank smiled.

****

By later that evening, only a little later to the meet up than usually planned, Frank and Gerard were walking up the drive to Ray’s front door.  
Mikey answered, and he smiled when he saw the two holding hands.

Frank realised things were never going to be the way they were.  
But, as the four of them sat around, eating, drinking and watching crappy Christmas films, all while admiring the latest version of their silly little Christmas tree, Frank couldn’t help thinking that things really were going to be okay. 

When Gerard moved up closer to him on the couch, curled his arm around him, and rested his head on Frank’s shoulder, he was sure of it.


End file.
